


Apathy

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Climate Change, Gen, Global Warming, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-07 06:49:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18615346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: The Enterprise watches a world destroy itself.





	Apathy

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Everyone knows things are bad on the bridge when Jim actually _volunteers_ for his physical, finally taking the appointment he’s been dodging for months. Under normal circumstances, Bones wouldn’t care about the reason—he’d grumble, sure, but underneath it, he’d be pleased at Jim finally showing up in sickbay. He’d lord it over Jim’s head for days and probably still needle him about eating more salads.

It’s telling that Bones’ flat expression stays just as dreary as everyone else’s. He doesn’t seem to take any pleasure in running the usual myriad of tests before declaring Jim, as Jim expected, perfectly fit for duty. Jim actually finds himself half hoping for _more_ tests than usual, anything to keep him from the grim monotony of their current mission. But Bones dismisses him, and Jim has no choice but to return to his chair.

There’s no welcome committee when he steps back onto the bridge. Chekov doesn’t announce him; the staff doesn’t acknowledge him. They stick to their stations, just doing their jobs.

Jim has to be the one to prompt: “Report.”

Sulu and Chekov glance at one another. Uhura keeps her back turned. Scotty looks at Spock, and Spock pulls back from his viewer. He gets up to his feet, straightening out just as he always does, hands primly held behind his back. “There have been no significant changes, Captain.”

Jim nods. He’d hoped, of course—he always _hopes_. He’s already accepted that the planet they’ve been ordered to study will likely kill themselves off before inducting them into the Federation is even a possibility, but he’d still held the belief that they _could_ turn things around, more for their own sake than for any future alliance. Still, the report’s not unexpected.

Sulu bluntly adds, “They’re building a new pipeline.”

Jim can feel his face slipping. He’s trying not to let his disappointment show—he has to set the tone. But he can’t help muttering beneath his breath, “Great, more fossil fuels.”

“I don’t _understand_ this,” Chekov mutters from his console, shaking his head. “They are _killing_ themselves. How can they be so ignorant and elect such idiots?”

“They’ve just gone too far, lad,” Scotty pitches in, with the weary tone of someone who’s seen too much self-destruction to question it anymore. “It’s too depressin’ to face, so they dinnae even think about it.”

“But it’s not ewen that hard!” Chekov insists. “Recycle. Buy ethically. Wote responsibly. Stop supporting the industries doing this. Tell their gowernment this is serious! It is just common sense, and it’s easy!”

“To you and me,” Uhura interjects. “But from the sounds of it, there are still plenty of people down there who don’t believe there _is_ a problem, even with the increased natural disasters and spiking temperatures.”

“But there are people paying attention, right?” Sulu adds, glancing over at Uhura as though wanting, _needing_ her to confirm that. She’s been at communications since they first pulled into orbit, so really, she must understand the natives below better than anyone. Sulu presses, “They’ve got information out there for how to reduce their carbon footprint. They’re informing each other. There’s hope...”

Uhura frowns. She nods, but doesn’t verbally console him, and that says more than enough. Sulu lingers anyway before finally turning back to the helm. An uncomfortable silence settles over the bridge, until Jim asks, “Spock... what’s your take?”

There’s a telling pause before Spock speaks. Even if he tries not to indulge in their emotions, he’s been with them long enough now to sense the mood of the bridge, and he seems to be respectful of that. But Jim knows he won’t sugar coat his diagnosis. “Unfortunately, Captain, unless they make drastic changes, decreasing their carbon output by at least forty-five percent within eleven of their years, the planet will sustain irreversible damage.”

The wake of that is solemn. It’s a conclusion they must have all come to individually, but it’s still difficult to hear in actual numbers. In the dim hush, Sulu can be heard murmuring, “It’s still possible.”

Jim quietly admits, “I hope so.” He truly does. And he hopes that when the Federation decides to check in again, it’ll be a different story.

In the meantime, there’s nothing they can do to help the people below who won’t help themselves. He makes the executive decision to end their watch—he already has all he needs for his report. He announces to the helm, “We’ve learned enough; prepare to leave orbit. We’ll return in eleven years... and hopefully find they’ve done their planet justice.”


End file.
